


You're Filthy

by Delirious21



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25023976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious21/pseuds/Delirious21
Summary: Wheeljack tries something new in the berth and, well. . . mixed results.
Relationships: Ratchet/Wheeljack
Kudos: 31





	You're Filthy

It started nice enough, the practiced servos rubbing up and down his thighs, the sweet talk, and Ratchet sighed into the touches and leaned back on his mound of pillows. Wheeljack shuffled and ducked down to run his glossa over the seams between Ratchet’s thigh and array. Ratchet didn’t feel like playing coy today; he opened without a word but a small, content sigh. Wheeljack swirled his digits through the mess of Ratchet’s valve and grinned like a dumbass. Ratchet cringed, knowing that look meant trouble. 

“I’m gonna take down that v-dragon,” Wheeljack announced. He watched Ratchet for a reaction but when he didn’t get any, not even a cold glance, he set to work. Clearly he wasn’t doing a good enough job if Ratchet wasn’t ready to gag his mouth and pin him to the berth and take what he needed. 

Ratchet clenched his servos on Wheeljack’s roaming, petting servos. He groaned and canted his hips up towards that delving glossa playing with his valve and pressing teasingly against the twitching entrance. And then, it was as if Wheeljack flipped a switch and he started slobbering and making the most absurd noises as he devoured Ratchet’s valve. 

Ratchet moaned and hissed from the sensation, but wacked the back of Wheeljack’s helm when he didn’t stop making those excessive squelching sounds. He wasn’t  _ that  _ wet. But Wheeljack kept going, and he almost didn’t want him to stop when it felt so good. But the noise. . . 

“Stop,” Ratchet moaned. 

Wheeljack chuckled. “You don’t think it’s hot, how your juices make all these wonderful sounds when I run my glossa through them? I could stop, I guess.”

“Frag you,” Ratchet hissed and tackled the damned mech to the floor. He muffled Wheeljack’s protests by smothering him with his valve. 


End file.
